


Cactus Spines

by ohwowthatneat



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I’m projecting on to Minecraft youtubers, My First Fanfic, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohwowthatneat/pseuds/ohwowthatneat
Summary: George is sad. I spent three hours writing this.Tw: panic attacks and body dysmorphia
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Cactus Spines

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after watching Quackity’s latest stream. I think I’m looking into this to much. I’ve lost any and all respect for myself.

George had been having fun streaming with his friends.

He had ended his stream and was ready just to chill and have fun with his friends. They had finally settled down after Dream had interrupted their pranks.

George had been excited for this, they had already pranked Bad, and his reaction was pretty hilarious.

George heard his friend's loud laughter through his headset as he saw them gathered around something on-screen. He walked his character over to them to see what they were laughing at.

He stared at the photo of himself. His face in the picture distorted. He scrunched his nose up at the image. A sinking feeling made itself present in his chest.

He could see Quackity’s character holding another map as he asked Bad for item frames in between his laughs.

“That better not be another photo of me.” He warned.

George was relieved to find out it wasn’t a picture of him, but the feeling persisted.

He frowned again and leaned back in his chair. His eyes were tired after staring at the screen for so long.

The sound of his friends roaring with laughter again caught his attention. George looked up again to see another picture of him; this one also being altered strangely.

His heart sunk in his chest. He hunched his shoulders as he curled in on himself self-consciously—a cold feeling running up his skin, giving him goosebumps.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

George received no answer to his question, only the laughs of his friends.

He tried to laugh along; he tried to find the funny in the situation. He felt embarrassment flutter in his chest.

The character onscreen punched at the picture, trying to break the image. George was only met with yells of protest from his friends.

He didn’t want to have to look at it anymore.

George knew that they didn’t mean any harm, that it was all meant light-heartedly. But he couldn’t shake the awful feeling still clinging to him.

He tried to ignore the other rude comments his friends made about the pictures.

 _ **“Why do you look like that, George?”**_ He could hear Quackity laughing as he asked.

George had reached his limit.

“I’m leaving.”

He deafened himself and logged out of Minecraft. He checked a few things on his computer before pulling up a tab of Quackity’s stream. They hadn’t even noticed he left.

He glanced over at the chat. It was full of ‘ _LMAOOO’_ and _‘HAHAHA.’_ They all thought it was funny.

He sighed and took off his headphones, pushing back from his desk as he stood up. He was suddenly exhausted, the lack of sleep catching up to him.

He had been excited to play with his friend but now all he wanted to do was sleep and forget about this whole thing.

He heard the faint meowing from the other side of his bedroom door. He walked over and turned the doorknob to his bedroom door, and stepped out into the hallway. A small gray cat ran up to him and rubbed against his leg. He had a faint smile as he bent over to pet the cat.

The cat pressed its head up into George’s hand as it demanded more pets. He let out a chuckle and picked up the cat. He turned and walked back to his bedroom.

He walked over to his bed and set down the kitten. It immediately began to groom its paws.

**_“I like that George is just deafened.”_ **

He heard Puffy’s voice ring out from the speakers.

He grimaced and quickly walked over to his computer to close the tab.

George let out a sigh as he just stood in the silence of his room. The thoughts in his head filled with negative words.

The awful feeling in his chest returned, an ache that he felt deep in his heart. A cold weight settled in his stomach that made him feel nauseous. His heart began to beat almost painfully in his chest.

“Meow?”

He was startled out of his thoughts and turned his attention back to the cat sitting on his bed. Its big eyes stared at him, curiously, as if it was asking what was wrong.

He sat down on the bed and ran his hand through the cat’s soft fur. It moved away and went to curl up next to his pillow.

George retrieved his phone from his pocket and stared at his lock screen, just hoping to see a message from Discord. He hoped for an apology or just someone asking if he was alright.

He unlocked his phone and immediately clicked on Twitter. He scrolled mindlessly through his feed, trying to ignore the feelings of self-hatred filling his mind; he closed the app and leaned back on his bed.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and let out another sigh. The aching feeling in his chest struck again. He felt his throat constrict as a lump formed in the back of his throat. His vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes.

He stood and rushed to the bathroom. He tried to wipe away the oncoming tears, but they slipped over his cheeks anyway.

He splashed some cold water on his face, a stark contrast to the warm tears still running down his face.

He looked up at himself in the mirror, his eyes red and puffy. His cheeks had reddened and were blotchy. The bags under his eyes looked darker. His cheekbones had a shadowed look from the fluorescent lighting, making his face look skeletal.

_‘I don’t look like that, do I?’_

George stared at his reflection with dismay. The longer he stared, the more distorted his face became.

_“Why do you look like that, George?”_

The previous words of his friend repeated in his mind.

He quickly tore his eyes away from the mirror; he couldn’t stand to look at himself anymore. George could feel his heartbeat in his throat, his breaths coming out in short pants.

He tried to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself.

He felt hollow, the pain in his chest still present but slightly dulled. He could feel an oncoming headache. Exhaustion pulled at his body, making him feel weak.

He shuffled back to his bedroom and flopped face-first onto his bed, still in his regular clothes. He let out a groan and rolled on to his back; he stared at the ceiling.

He hated being the butt of the joke.

_‘Why would he put up pictures of just me?’_

_‘And why did everyone think they were so funny.’_

He tried to close his eyes to get some sleep, but the pictures of his face kept appearing in his mind.

George knew that it was all jokes, but he just couldn’t shake the awful feeling.

His friend's words stuck in his heart and mind like cactus spines.

_‘My friends would never be mean to me on purpose, right? They’re my friends!’_

_‘They don’t mean it like that.’_

_‘Do they?’_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I’ve never really written anything like this. I will gladly take any constructive criticism in the comments. Thank you for reading! <3


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